Page 4 of The Highlander's Accidental Wife
Helena wasn’t sure what she was asking for. Only a sense of the entire world tipping rushed at her, and she didn’t know what she wanted. But her body did.
Unable to help herself, she leaned in, chasing another kiss, and she realized in a split second that he’d been teasing her—taking her at her word so as to torment her. For, now, he gave her a proper, devastating kiss.
Her entire world spun, and heat washed over her, as though a sun had risen and drenched her in golden fire. If the sky had gone from early evening to bright blue, she would not have been surprised. Or if the seasons had changed.
Everything had changed.
For once, she couldn’t think. She could only feel. And oh, how she felt.
He lingered on her lips, sank his teeth lightly into her lower one, which did all sorts of wonderous and dangerous things to her brain. And then, of all things, she felt him smile against her lips.
I didn’t know you could taste a smile.
That didn’t sound like her usual marshaled lines of logic and prose.
“Just the one, then, aye?” the man whispered as he pulled back. Then, he seemed to hesitate, losing some of that cocky self-assurance as he asked in a quiet voice that strummed a chord in her heart, “Lass?”
Helena realized she was holding on to his arms, breathing hard, and her knees had gone weak. There was a roar in her heart, a tumultuous storm that this man had awoken inside her, and something else—something that had her swallowing the plea in her throat. For she was indeed about to beg for another kiss.
She forced herself to remember what she was doing, how she needed to flee and escape her father’s men.
“Do—do you think they saw?” Helena asked in a slightly shaky voice.
She couldn’t yet look up, but then a large hand caught her chin and tilted her face up. At that moment, she thought he would kiss her again.
Instead, he asked, “Tell me who has frightened ye so, lass. ‘Tis nae the right color on ye.”
Again, Helena felt that flood of warmth, along with the unsettling sense that this man could see right through her—really see her in a way that no one, perhaps not even her best friend Emma, ever had.
Swallowing hard, she glanced over her shoulder and spotted the two men standing on the other side of the crowd. Their hands were hanging by their sides, comical looks of horror and shock on their faces, and a surge of triumph went through her.
She laughed lightly and nodded.
“Those two,” she murmured, a smile spreading across her face.
When she looked back at the man, he was staring at her, his lips slightly parted, and he seemed almost… dazed?
A bolt of nerves ran through her, and she stepped back. Had he recognized her? Did he regret their kiss?
“I think they saw.”
“Aye,” the man said.
He gave himself a shake, and his gaze sharpened, the amusement back on his face, along with an easy and cocky smile that sent a bolt of heat through Helena. For she knew the contours and taste of it.
How dare he.
“Well, ye’re free to go,” he said and tilted his head to the side. “Unless…” he trailed off, his voice lower, rolling with mischief—a sound that poured into her head like the honey and spice of her favorite sweets. “Ye think they need more convincin’?”
Lifting her chin, Helena chided herself for being a fool. Here this man was, laughing at her, probably amused by how easily she’d been undone by his kiss. Probably suspecting it had been her first.
Drat.
She hadn’t meant to think that, and now color flooded her face. A pressure rose behind her eyes, and she wished that he’d been kinder. But, after all, wasn’t this the reason he’d chosen her?
Something flickered across his face, and his smile vanished, but before he could speak, Helena said, “No. I thank you.”
She stuck out her hand, and he stared at it, then raised his eye to hers, something cold on his face now.
